He took a generous sip of the briny water, which would probably play havoc with his stomach later tonight, before taking out his wallet and removing nine twenty-dollar bills. The bartender took notice while hurrying past with two cocktails, and gave him a quick nod. Devin didn’t have to time this perfectly. Just close enough to be in place for the next phase. The honey trap leaned in close and whispered something in her mark’s ear, prompting him to rather hurriedly take out his wallet. She waved it off and produced cash from her purse, making sure the bartender saw the small wad of bills before she ushered the mark toward the exit.

“Honey trap is leaving with Mr. Chase,” said Devin.

“Copy. Let us know if she has friends.”

“Will do,” said Devin before picking up his drink.

He needed to finish it in a timely but unsuspicious manner. Two minutes seemed right, and the countersurveillance dance continued. The bill arrived halfway through the drink, and he tucked the crisp twenties inside. The tidy sum well exceeded the total, but it wasn’t his money, and the honey trap’s employer was bound to make an inquiry or two later. The tip might work in Devin’s favor. That and the fact that he’d insisted on paying regular price for the faux drinks. Fuzzy bartender memory and no hard proof he was part of the setup.

A minute and a half after Chase’s departure, two men he hadn’t given a second thought to until now made their way toward the exit, moving with a purpose. He didn’t get a really good look at either of them, but it was enough. Devin reported the development as soon as they stepped out of the bar.

“Two men followed,” he said. “One with blond hair wearing a navy-blue suit. The other dark hair with a dark-gray suit. Older guys. I’d say early fifties?”

“Copy. Give it another minute.”

“One minute,” said Devin.

With a little time to kill, Devin got up from his seat, drink in hand, and slid the bill toward the bartender before wading through the crowd behind him to reach the edge of the bar’s open terrace. The East Wing of the White House dominated his view, its illuminated face impossible to miss a few blocks away. Beyond it, a thin, dark-blue strip stretched across the horizon—the last vestiges of what had been a perfect early-summer day in DC minutes from slipping away entirely.